


Reaching Out for the Light

by PR Zed (przed)



Category: Take That
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-29
Updated: 2012-02-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:40:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/przed/pseuds/PR%20Zed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would have been fine if it had been their usual sort of stage kiss, a quick brush of the lips before moving on to the next bit of choreography.  But it hadn't been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaching Out for the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Dem Licht entgegen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/982265) by [eurydike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydike/pseuds/eurydike)



> A birthday present for m. butterfly. Thanks to halotolerant for fab betaing skills, and soundofthesurf for being a lovely first reader.

He should never have done it. He knew it in bone and sinew, and yet he could no more have stopped himself from kissing Jason Orange on the stage of the Dusseldorf Esprit Arena in front of the other boys, God, and 54,000 fans than he could have stopped breathing.

It would have been fine if it had been their usual sort of stage kiss, a quick brush of the lips before moving on to the next bit of choreography. But it hadn't been. It had been a proper kiss, or as proper a kiss as he could manage in the time the Kidz routine gave him. Which, it turned out, was enough time for Jay's mouth to open in surprise under his. Enough time for their tongues to touch, for their breath to merge. Enough time for Jay's eyes to widen in shock, and to almost stumble as he moved into his first big shoulder spin. 

They'd been here before, back in the '90s. It had started on nights when they'd hunt in a pack for girls, and then he and Jason would pay more attention to each other than to the girls they'd pulled. After a while, they'd skipped the girls entirely and just enjoyed what their fit young bodies could get up to together. They'd been young idiots who hadn't known what they'd wanted, only that they'd _wanted_. 

Then the band had ended, and they'd ended, and Howard had been left wondering if the worst part of it all hadn't been losing Jason. And when they'd got back together the most wonderful part had been getting Jason back as a friend. Just as a friend, there always being a girlfriend or partner for one or the other of them. But that had been fine, Howard had always told himself it was fine.

Until tonight, when he'd taken one moment's indulgence on stage, and made a bloody mess of everything.

He wasn't sure how he made it through the rest of the concert without walking off the edge of the stage or bumping into a dancer. Wasn't sure how he made it through the rest of the concert at all, too aware that Jason was avoiding him, wouldn't meet his eyes, went to extra effort to avoid being beside him, whether it was during the group hug or their final bows.

It was at the end of the concert, though, that he really knew how much he'd bollocksed things up.

He and Jason always shared a car back to the hotel at the end of a show. Always. But this night, Jason legged it ahead of him, pushed into the car with Rob and Mark, and left him and Gary stood in the loading bay, with Gary giving him an odd look and Paul giving them both a shove into the remaining car.

"C'mon, lads," Paul said. "Don't want to give the fans a chance to catch up to us, do we?"

So they got in the car, and the driver sped off, and they spent the trip to the hotel in near total uncomfortable silence.

Near total silence, until Gary finally tried to bring him out as they neared the hotel.

"Anything I should know about, Doug?"

"No."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah."

"Alright," Gary had said, his tone and expression making it clear he was very much aware that everything was not alright, but that he wasn't going to push it.

Jason and Rob had disappeared by the time their car arrived at the hotel's back entrance, though Mark was waiting for them.

"Where's Jay?" Gary asked him.

"Said he weren't feeling well and ran for the lift. Rob went with him." Mark looked Howard over carefully. "You feeling okay, How?"

"Yeah," he replied firmly, daring Mark to contradict him.

"Kidz went well tonight," Mark said, and gave him as shrewd a look as he'd ever seen from their Markie.

"I don't know." Howard tried desperately not to react, not to give in to the moisture forming in his eyes, to the scratchiness of his throat. "It's gone better."

"Only one more night to go." Mark put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Best make sure you get it right the last time, hey?" 

He didn't know what to say to that, didn't know what "right" meant just at the moment, so he just nodded and ducked his head.

"C'mon, you two." Gary pushed both of them forward. "Let's get a good night's rest for a change.

Howard let himself be chivvied forward. Because it was that or run away, and he knew once he started running, he wasn't going to stop.

* * *

Jason sat in the armchair in his hotel suite, still wearing his final costume change from the concert, his bare feet propped up on the bed, his thoughts a muddled mess. He concentrated on his breathing, on taking one measured breath after another in spite of the turmoil that was going through his mind.

Why the fuck had he done it? Why had Howard kissed him like that? After all these years, after he'd thought they'd put all this behind them...

Daft bugger.

It wasn't a question of love. He knew he loved Howard. He and Howard were the Muppets in the back, they were a team, they kept each other sane when there was madness all around them. But _how_ did he love him? That was the question.

Like a mate? Like a brother? Like his best friend in the world.

Or like that kiss?

His hand drifted up to lightly touch his lips, even as he played the moment over in his head. That kiss had been like Howard himself, straightforward but complicated, forceful but shy.

What the fuck had he meant by it?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a quiet tapping at his door.

Howard.

It had to be.

He sat there in the dark, hoping Howard would go away, would let them both just forget this whole thing, even as he secretly admired the courage it must have taken his friend to expose himself like this again.

"Jay?" Howard said, his voice as hushed and strained on the other side of the door as his knock had been. 

Jason didn't move, didn't speak, he just sat there, overwhelmed by his own cowardice.

"I just want to talk. To talk. That's all."

But that wasn't the problem, Jason knew. Howard might just want to talk, but Jason wasn't entirely sure if that was what _he_ wanted. There were too many words jumbling around in his mind, but he didn't know if he had anything to say.

"Let me in, Jay." Howard's voice was so soft that Jason could barely hear it. It was like he was fading away from him, disappearing into the distance like they'd all disappeared after they'd killed the band the first time. "I won't hurt you. You know that, don't you? That I would never hurt you?"

There was silence the room except for the pounding of his own heart, except for the rushing of blood in his ears. Then, finally, he heard footsteps retreating down the hallway, and knew he had to act, had to move. Stay frozen, and Howard would never dare this again, and a piece of his friend, a very important piece, would be lost to Jason forever.

He felt his chest tighten as he realized one truth: Howard wouldn't hurt him. Howard was safety and strength. Howard was home.

He ran across the room and flung open the door, emerging into the hall. Howard, already half way to his room, turned to look back at him, his expression a mix of dejection and hope.

"C'mon in, then," Jason said, before retreating back inside. He sat on the bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, as Howard cautiously entered the room and quietly closed the door behind him. They stared at each other like that for a long minute, Howard at the door, Jason on the bed, neither of them moving or talking.

"Why?" Jason finally said.

"Why what?" Howard asked, his blue eyes wide.

"Why now?" That wasn't the only question Jason wanted answered, but it would do for a start.

"Don't know." Howard jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and looked down at the floor.

There was another long silence during which Howard wouldn't look at him, but Jason couldn't _stop_ looking at Howard, and he felt like there was no way they were going to breach the chasm between them. Unless... 

Howard's courage had got them this far. Jason knew his own courage was going to have to carry them the rest of the way.

He stilled his thoughts, took a deep cleansing breath, and stood. 

Two long strides brought him to Howard's side. Another movement, and he'd eased Howard's hand out of his pocket. His palm was dry and warm, his finger's trembled in Jason's grasp. Or perhaps it was Jason's own hand that was trembling. 

Jason laced their fingers together, then reached out his free hand and tipped Howard's chin up until his eyes, those impossibly beautiful eyes, were looking directly into his own.

Jason could see fear in those eyes. Fear and curiosity and hope and doubt and care. And love.

The love was what mattered.

This time it was Jason who leaned in to start the kiss, and it was Howard's mouth that opened under his. And this time they didn't have to stop there. There was no audience to play to except each other, no choreography to dance but what their bodies told them.

They could take their time, could learn each other once again, could finally learn how to do this properly.

Shedding clothes and inhibitions, Jason dragged Howard over to the bed with a smile.

* * *

Mark hated endings. He hated the end of tours, hated saying goodbye to the family of musicians and dancers and crew they built around themselves each time. He hated doing the routines for the last time, hated walking through the audience for the last time, and hated taking their bows for the last time.

But this final show was different. This one contained a beginning as well.

He'd been hoping for this beginning for a long time, for years even, but you couldn't force someone to feel the way you thought they ought to, to reach out to someone you could see was perfect for them. But when Howard had kissed Jason during Kidz in Dusseldorf, his heart had leapt. And when the two of them had disappeared almost entirely for the three days before they were due in Munich, he'd hoped.

When they reached the Kidz dance off this time, Mark knew that the two of them had finally, and at long last, sorted things out between them. There was a spark to the intensity between them this night, a playfulness that replaced the serious concentration they'd approached the dancing with for the rest of the tour. They didn't kiss, but they might as well have done, the connection between them was so raw, so honest, so bright. And when it came time for the final handshake, Howard pulled Jason towards him and gave him a great, thumping hug, the two of them smiling so wide that Mark couldn't help breaking the serious persona he always tried to bring to this song and smiling along as well.

After that, the medley, the daft banter, and the Pray routine were pure pleasure, as he took enjoyment from Howard and Jason's enjoyment of each other. Then they were dashing off to change into the LED jackets, and Mark made sure he was beside Jason as they ran through the back stage area.

"Anything I should know?" Mark asked, giving Jason a nudge as the other three pulled ahead of them.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Markie," Jason said, then ruined the effect by giving him a wide grin.

"Congratulate Howard for me," he said as they caught up to the others.

"Congratulate Howard for what?" Robbie asked as he zipped up his jacket.

"Nowt you need to know about, Rob," Howard said, and gave him a cuff on the head.

"For getting it right." Mark looked at Howard and winked at him. Howard glared back, but Mark could see a definite twinkle behind his glower.

"Getting what right?" Rob asked, looking more and more confused.

"If you lot don't shut up and get on stage, we're not going to get the next number right," Gary said, pushing them all ahead of him.

As they finished Eight Letters and he watched Howard and Jason as they all took their final bows, Mark decided this was one ending he didn't mind at all.


End file.
